


A Question of Inevitability

by JocundaSykes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Partners, Blanket Permission, Blow Jobs, Denial of Feelings, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Podfic Welcome, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Shower Sex, Smut, no infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:55:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23478088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JocundaSykes/pseuds/JocundaSykes
Summary: Malfoy is an ever-increasing distraction in the Auror Office. Getting seduced by him is frankly a terrible idea, yet Harry’s powerless to resist.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 22
Kudos: 224





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All chapters have been written. I’ll be polishing them up and posting over the next fortnight or so! I'm grateful to @crazyconglasses and @ataraxia for straightening this out in beta! Thanks to them, you are in for a treat.

Malfoy summoned Harry. This time, it was a lone white rose left on his towering pyramid of paperwork.

“Who’s leaving you flowers, mate?” Ron smirked. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Harry swallowed and shook his head. “I dunno—”

“I highly doubt it.” Draco tapped his wand to a pale violet memorandum, which bent itself into a paper aeroplane and flapped off into the corridor. “Leaving flowers for yourself, Potty? That’s pathetic,” he scoffed.

Irritation prickled through Harry’s spine and he stood. “Shut your mouth, or I’ll shut it for you.”

Draco snorted and said, “I’m quaking in my boots,” before going back to his cubicle.

“He is such an arsehole,” Ron muttered to him. “I swear his insults are getting worse as the years go on, he’s losing his touch.” He pulled out a roll of parchment for them both to begin their paperwork.

Harry smiled ruefully. “I swear, you sound more and more like Hermione every day.”

Rolling his eyes, he said, “I only moved in with her last week!” Ron made a face at the blank page. “I need a coffee before starting this lot, d’you want one?”

“Yeah, cheers.” Harry dug around for a handful of Sickles. “Anything with sugar.”

“All right. See you in a sec.”

Harry passed his fingers up and down the smooth stem of the rose. His heart thudded. A Thornless Rose.

It was going to happen again. And he wanted it. Again.

With shaking hands, he opened the drawer of his desk and dropped the flower next to the others. He cast a preservation charm on it. The rose lay beside a tiny fragrant star jasmine and a Colour-Changing Carnation. Harry slid the drawer shut and remained utterly still as the familiar thump of dragonhide boots passed him to get to the quill and ink cabinet.

He chanced a peek as Draco ambled back to his desk, and locked gazes with light grey eyes.

Tonight. It would be tonight.

It had been so long since Harry had been with someone who knew his real name or face. He needed this.

The sound of boots stopped behind him.

Everyone else was on patrol, except their boss, who had his head in the Floo. They were not alone.

_Focus._

He scratched out ‘Tuesday, 30th September 2003’ at the top of the parchment. Swallowing, he gripped his quill harder in conviction. ‘Aurors Potter and Weasley’.

He wrote out the location of today’s arrest, but jumped at the brush of Draco’s fingers at the nape of his neck.

“Stop being a wanker,” Harry hissed. It was easier to be angry for Draco’s earlier comment than disarmed by his touch.

“I will make it up to you,” Draco murmured into Harry’s ear. “Work late tonight.”

“Is that an order?”

Draco said nothing as he walked away, staring at Harry over his shoulder as he went. His musky scent teased Harry—bergamot, leather, vanilla.

Harry resolutely dipped his quill in the pot of ink and carried on with his work.


	2. Chapter 2

Ron leaned on the back legs of his chair, and yawned. “Not making much progress. I’ll hang back ‘til we’re done, though.”

“Nah, mate, you go on. I’ll go perk up in the canteen, and come back to finish this up.”

Ron thunked his seat back onto its four legs, and looked hopefully at Harry. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, course! Tell Hermione I said ‘hi’.”

Ron clapped his best friend on the shoulder. “Good man—will do. I owe you.”

“See you tomorrow.”

****

The early evening sunlight poured through the windows of the second level of the Ministry, and Harry stared blankly at his cubicle wall. Magical Maintenance had decided on the illusion of a heatwave. His workstation was littered with _Daily Prophet_ and _Wizarding Times_ clippings, and maps of the dodgy parts of York.

Progress was slow.

By eight o’clock, he was completely alone in the office. He wondered again if this was some kind of cruel joke. He couldn’t focus on his report, and was half hard.

_Thump-thump-thump._

Harry felt a surge of exhilaration at the steps of familiar boots. Then Malfoy was in the doorway—tall, blond, commanding in scarlet—and silently regarding him from the threshold.

He got to his feet as Draco slowly reached his desk. He felt naked—his own Auror robes flung over the back of his chair.

“Good evening.” Draco’s eyes were blazing.

“…Hi.”

His gaze flickered to Draco’s hand, who drew out a pair of handcuffs from a pocket inside his robes. “Do you know what these are?”

He gulped. He nodded. His wrist twitched towards his wand.

“Muggles use them in law enforcement. I fully support collaborative endeavours with our non-magical colleagues.” He leaned on the side of Harry’s cubicle and crossed his legs at the ankles. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

He let out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. “I-I suppose so.”

“Close the Floo.”

He obeyed. Draco locked and silenced the door with two flicks of his wand.

“This shan’t take up too much of your precious time,” Draco drawled. He pointed to their boss’ chair by the empty fire. “Sit.”

He sat. His eyes darted about the office. He began to sweat.

_This is so wrong._

Draco paced around behind Robards’ chair, like a bird circling his prey, and pulled Harry’s wrists back to cuff them. He didn’t see Harry’s eyes widen in panicked excitement as the cuffs clicked shut.

Circling back to face him, Draco cocked his head to one side and admired the sight. He sank to his knees.

A thrill of awed anticipation charged through him. “We might get caught. We’d be in loads of trouble.” Draco raised an eyebrow, licked his lips and hummed in agreement. Harry looked down through his eyelashes and grinned. “We shouldn’t do this.” _We shouldn’t do this here._

“The Potter I know rushes in where angels fear to tread.”

Harry’s nostrils flared as he nodded, and wished he was free to bury his hands in Draco’s hair.

Draco nuzzled his nose into his crotch. Harry whimpered.

He got up and ran his knuckles down Harry’s cheek. “Potter, you are at my mercy.” The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as Draco carded his fingers through his hair. “You are going to beg.”

He tried to appear brave, but the rise and fall of his ribs gave him away. “Do what you will,” he whispered.

Draco grinned. He spelled open Harry’s shirt. When he saw the goosebumps, he conjured some bluebell flames. “Better?” he murmured.

He gave Draco a lopsided smile. “Much. Kiss me now.”

“No.” Malfoy stood back and circled him again slowly. “I’m trying to commit this heavenly vision to memory.”

He was unable to sit still. “When do I have to start begging?”

Draco chuckled but didn’t answer. He approached Harry from behind and nibbled the lobe of his ear.

“Please. I’m going to start now,” said Harry.

Draco circled around to view him. Then, he straddled Harry and cupped his face with both palms. “I take care of you so well.”

He nodded and then hissed as Draco latched onto a nipple, pulling the other one hard with cool fingers. “Sublime. For the next ten minutes, you belong to me.”

He sagged into the back of the seat, docile, and Draco pushed his glasses up onto the top of his head. Draco kissed the tip of his nose, and sucked on his lower lip. He groaned and bucked up as Draco’s erection pressed into his stomach. Chuckling, he ground their cocks together through their clothes.

Only the two of them existed.

Draco captured his lips in a crushing kiss, then licked into his hot wet mouth. He tasted of tea. Draco pushed Harry’s shirt down off his shoulders, and kneaded them, whilst deepening their kiss. Harry whimpered into his mouth.

Harry broke away. “I’ve been waiting all day…you torture me…”

Draco raised an eyebrow, replaced his glasses, and knelt once again between his knees. “Poor Harry. Draco will make it all better.” His jaw dropped as Draco pulled him free of his trousers and underwear.


	3. Chapter 3

His bounty for the taking, sitting before him.

Warm. Hard. His. _Harry._

“Say please.”

“ _Please_ ,” he gasped.

The heat of his breath over Harry’s cock caused it to twitch in response. “Say you want me.”

Laughing at the absurdity, Harry said, “of course I do.”

He held down Potter’s legs as he laved his tongue up the underside of his cock and up and over the head, and then sucked him down to the root. Potter whined and tensed against the handcuffs. His thighs quivered.

“I-I can’t—”

_Can’t stay away._

He circled his tongue around the tip, then broke off to say, “you can.” He sank all the way down once again and swallowed around the head. He revelled in the yelp and low growl, and the feeling of being captured by the clenching of Harry’s thighs.

_Worth the wait._

He took him even deeper, and gazed up into Harry’s green, green eyes, glazed over with bliss. This seemed to be the permission he needed, as Harry squeezed them shut. Abs clenched, hips struggling, neck stretched up in offering.

_Perfect._

He bobbed his head up and down in earnest, feasting on the sight before him. Harry was close. So close. Body arched, tightened up like a coiled spring, frozen. He sank his fingernails into Harry’s hips as he came, shuddering, with a shout. He savoured every bitter, salty drop.

_This is the last time._

He rested his head on his lap. Potter caught his breath, chest heaving. “Wow.”

 _Indeed_.

He nuzzled his head into Harry’s stomach, and they were both still, listening to the sounds of their heavy breathing and the tap-tapping of the start of a rain shower against the magical windows.

_It was over. Never again._

He stood and whispered ‘ _Alohomora’_ to release Potter’s wrists. There were marks on his skin where the handcuffs had dug in. Draco didn’t rub them better.

Potter tucked himself away, and buttoned up his shirt. “When will I see you again?” He attempted the futile task of flattening his hair, and looked up at the foe glass. All clear.

“Tomorrow. I work here,” he sneered. He vanished the handcuffs and successfully smoothed his hair. He didn’t meet Harry’s eyes.

“You know what I mean.”

“You won’t.” He frowned at the floor, adjusted his cuffs, and turned away. “Goodbye, Potter.”

He did not look back.


	4. Chapter 4

_Three years earlier_

Harry waited impatiently at the bar, and wished for once that being the ‘Chosen One’ had any measurable benefits at all.

Tonight marked the end of the first week of training for the new intake of Aurors. For many of them, fresh out of Hogwarts, the ‘real world’ of work was proving to be a shock.

“Harry!” Sally-Anne yelled over the loud music. He smiled back at his colleague. “I’ve come to help you remember the drinks—Draco says you’ll be hopeless!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “How charming,” he shouted.

She leaned in to shout a little quieter in his ear. “He fancies you, you know.”

He narrowed his eyes sceptically. “Really?” Shaking his head, he replied, “I don’t think so.”

“He does! Do you like him back?”

Harry spluttered. He didn’t know what to say. “He’s Malfoy.”

“Very fit.”

“Well—yes, but—”

“Who’s next?” the barman called. Harry was inordinately grateful and ordered their fourth round. Without Sally-Anne’s help.

They headed back to their seats in the corner of Black Magic, the new upscale wizarding nightclub. Draco laughed at Mary’s joke, head thrown back, a carefree smile lighting up his face.

 _Gorgeous_.

****

“So. You and Harry.”

He creased his brow. “There is no ‘me and Harry’,” he drawled, forming quotation marks with his fingers, and puffing on his wizarding cigarette. Plumes of purple smoke engulfed them.

Sal leaned back against the wall and wrapped her leather jacket tighter against the chill. “He fancies you. Do you like him back?”

Draco lifted his chin. “He does? Says who?”

“He told me.”

He snorted and said, “I see.” Draco stubbed out his cigarette. “I’m going home. See you on Monday morning.” He returned to the club to find the main exit. Heavy bass vibrated his feet. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Though he couldn’t spot his colleagues, he somehow met Potter’s gaze—he must have been watching the door.

His eyes were glistening, face pink from dancing.

Draco shouldered through the crowd to Harry. Time to put him to the test.

He leaned down to thunder in his ear. “Anyone catch your eye, Potter?”

Though it was dark in the club, Potter blushed pillar box red.

 _Interesting_.

Someone in the crowd stepped backwards, and Potter stumbled into his chest. “Are you drunk?” he laughed, looping his arms around Harry.

“I’ve had too much, and not enough…for this.”

_For this._

His head spun as they started to dance. Potter’s T-shirt felt damp with perspiration under his fingers, splayed over his back to guide their dancing. They easily followed the beat of the music. Draco tentatively lowered his hands onto Potter’s arse.

This wasn’t dancing. It was sex with clothes on.

The crowd encased them and paid them no heed. Potter hard against him, his nose buried in Draco’s neck, arms curled around his waist. He breathed Potter in—grapefruit and sandalwood aftershave, sweat and something distinctively Harry.

_This was interesting._

_This was what madness felt like._

Harry’s face tilted up, and Draco’s tilted down. They looked at each other’s lips as they writhed against each other in time to the music.

The song changed from _Strong Enough_ by Cher to Enrique’s _Bailamos_ which snapped them out of their reverie.

“This is a bad idea,” Potter shouted. “We shouldn’t do this.” He traced the edge of Draco’s ear with his tongue, who shivered and hauled him in closer.

“Invite me home!” he replied.

Potter didn’t hesitate. He tugged him off the dancefloor towards the exit. Clasping Draco’s wrist, he concentrated. Everything went black; he was being pressed hard from all directions; he couldn’t breathe; iron bands tightened around his chest; his eardrums were being forced deeper into his skull and then—

They gulped great lungfuls of air and opened streaming eyes, stumbling as they drunkenly landed in Potter’s flat.

He chuckled, hands on his knees, breathing deeply. “Warn me, next time.”

Potter pushed him back against his front door. “This is wrong. We could be sacked. Could we be sacked?”

They stood far too closely together. Harry’s breath smelt of rum. He had beautiful eyelashes. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, but he declared, “I won’t kiss and tell.”

Potter seemed to process this idea whilst tracing the outline of Draco’s cock with his forefinger. “I don’t do things like this. We shouldn’t.” He shook his head. “We hate each other.”

He said nothing, and carefully charted Harry’s lips with his thumb. Harry’s tongue poked out, encircled it, and sucked it into his hot wet mouth. His nostrils flared as he stared at Harry’s lips, transfixed.

Pulling his thumb free, he crushed their bodies and lips together.

 _Magic_.

They ground against each other and kissed passionately, deeply, forcefully, like teenagers in a dark alcove. Draco pulled back and gasped, “you drive me crazy.”

Harry bucked his hips into Draco’s, and they rocked together.

The world narrowed. He was dizzy.

It was quick. Urgent. Not how he’d imagined their first time. His breath hissed in Harry’s ear, who once again buried his face in his neck. Draco’s hips shuddered in a staccato beat, and his head thunked against the door. Harry latched onto his neck, sucking and biting. It was too much. Draco came in his trousers with a low groan, juddering against Harry’s hard groin. “ _Oh_.”

His eyes refocussed on Harry’s. They were wide with pride and pleasure. When he undid Harry’s belt and unzipped him to grasp his aching cock, Harry’s mouth fell open in awe. Harry braced his hands on Draco’s shoulders.

He didn’t last long.

Pressing his lips to Draco’s, he came, low in his throat, shuddering into Draco’s hand. He tenderly stroked him until Potter stilled, slumped onto Draco’s chest.

Potter straightened up. “We shouldn’t do this again,” he said, pulling Draco’s hand to his mouth, and tasting him clean.

Taking him by the chin, Potter kissed him softly. He tasted Harry’s bitter come.

“Goodnight then, Potter.”

Potter couldn’t look him in the eye as he pulled up his trousers and underwear. “Goodbye.”

The door gently closed behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

_Present day_

He and Draco were often the first to arrive, and among the last to leave.

Harry pressed the call button for the lift. It was late, and he’d been working alone since Draco had left a few minutes ago.

With a great jangling and clattering, it ascended in front of him; the golden grilles slid back. He hesitated before getting in.

He heard familiar footsteps— _thump-thump-thump-thump_ —and Malfoy jogged up to the lift.

_Draco. Of course it had to be Draco._

He hesitated before joining him.

The grilles slid shut with a crash and they descended.

They both stared resolutely ahead.

It moved agonisingly slowly.

“Level Three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Obliviator Headquarters and Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee,” called the cool voice.

A little flock of memos entered and flapped idly above their heads. They looked up, and then caught each other’s eyes.

The grilles clanged, and they went down.

Draco stepped forward, and placed a hand on the wall behind Harry, inches from him.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

Draco gently pressed his thumb to Harry’s mouth, and pleaded with his eyes.

Harry raised an eyebrow and sucked greedily on it, tasting the salt of his skin, clutching Draco’s sexy robes, staring into his pleasured grey eyes, aware they had just precious seconds—

The lift ground to a halt. They sprang apart. The grilles slid open.

“Level Four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office and Pest Advisory Bureau.”

A ghost of a mournful boy and dog glided in. Both Harry and Draco crossed their arms, occupying opposite sides of the lift.

****

Ever since the war, Harry had been a morning person, and he was always first in the Ministry gym when it opened. His stomach squirmed when he found a sparkling freesia on the benches. He cradled it in his hands, before casting a preservation charm on it and placing it carefully into his bag.

Harry had just begun his morning workout when Draco entered and headed straight for the dressing room. Cool, disinterested, unruffled.

Considering what to do for a minute, he tidied up his weights and went for a shower. Upon entering the changing room, he was immediately assailed by Draco pressing him up against the door and kissing him soundly. He tasted of coffee and wizarding tobacco. Harry crushed him in tighter, closer, before Harry pulled on his hair to lick up and down his neck.

“Showers,” Draco panted.

Obeying, Draco in hand, he tugged them into a stall. Jets overhead and at waist height turned on automatically, and Draco held out his arms, threw back his head and laughed. Majestic, carefree, beautiful.

At his look, Draco asked, “what?”

He just shook his head and grinned. “I like seeing you like this.”

Harry squelched out of his shoes and sodden socks, and Draco cast 'Impervius’ on his glasses. Tugging off Draco’s scarlet robes and black trousers, suddenly it wasn’t so funny anymore. He stood before him: pale, slender… Harry’s brain disobeyed him when he continued, “beautiful.”

Draco ducked his head and said nothing.

He pulled Draco near. His lips brushed a pink scar on his bicep, a raised ridge on his shoulder, his Dark Mark.

He kissed his right nipple. His haughty chin. He nipped his jaw. Draco pressed him into the wall and placed his thigh between Harry’s legs as Harry mapped his broad back. “I cannot help but notice you are somewhat overdressed, Potter.”

Pulling off his T-shirt, he pushed Draco away so he could tug off his shorts and underwear. He was half hard, and drew down Draco’s sodden black silk boxers.

_They were really going to do this._

Draco reached around Harry to dispense some fluffy, fragrant soap. He was compliant as Draco soaped up his shoulders, armpits, chest, calves, outer thighs, inner thighs, buttocks.

Harry clunked his forehead against the wall as Draco’s hands explored the curves of his arse.

His glasses fell to the floor with a crack.

_He’s on his knees._

_He’s going to do it._

Erotic shock melted his mind as a hot tongue pressed _there_. Fingers grasping at the tiles, toes curling, breath escaping him in gasping pants—his entire world centred around that probing tongue.

“ _Draco_.” A prayer or a plea or a thank-you.

Impossibly, Draco sent his pleasure higher when he reached around to stroke his throbbing cock.

Draco pulled away to lock and silence the door with a wave of his hand. Harry whimpered at the easy display of magic and at the loss of contact. Tugging Draco back into his arms urgently, he whispered between deep kisses, “you don’t have long. Make it count.”

Not breaking their embrace, Draco pushed on his shoulders to slide them down the tiles until he was straddling him on the floor. The jets of the shower sprayed over their heads.

“Cushioning Charm,” Draco commanded, reaching across to his robes and getting lube.

He obeyed.


	6. Chapter 6

Potter’s magnificent eyes widened at soft, sure lips wrapping around his cock. He was fully hard in seconds, and gripped the back of Draco’s neck.

Draco knelt back, eager to get to the end in case they were missed. Droplets of water twinkled on Harry’s eyelashes, and he looked vulnerable without his glasses. He adored Harry’s thick muscled thighs, firm chest, the V of his trailing hair.

Pouring lubricant on his fingers, Draco reached back behind to prepare himself. Harry stroked Draco’s cock and kissed him all the while.

He lined himself up, and nudged Harry’s cock against his entrance. Harry gasped into the kiss, gripped Draco’s thighs, and let life happen to him.

Sinking down, he bit his lip in concentration, and threw his unmarked forearm over his eyes. “Breathe,” Harry reminded him.

Easing downwards—gently, slowly—he didn’t really do this, let alone inside him. He felt every inch of Harry and stilled, fully seated.

_It was too much._

Harry slid his hands over Draco’s wet back, drawing them together in a tight embrace. “Is it…” _Perfect. Complete_. “…all right?” asked Harry.

He gifted Harry a chaste kiss. “Yes,” he said huskily.

_This was not just sex. This was not just a phase._

He moved, and Harry rocked with him, stroking him from the inside. He pushed back sopping hair from Harry’s forehead, and swiped away the water dripping into his eyes. Draco kissed his scar.

He slid up and impaled himself, over and over. Harry’s eyes glazed over and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Draco. The water splashed as Harry planted his feet into the ground to thrust up deeper. He admired Harry’s core tensing and flexing as much as the desperation written on his face.

Harry kissed his chest, his pecs, before Draco grabbed him by the chin to draw him into a sloppy kiss. They breathed heavily against each other. “Touch yourself,” Harry whispered. The pattering of the shower masked their laboured breathing.

His orgasm quickly built, higher and higher, one hand on the nape of Harry’s neck, the other around his cock. He gasped, electrified, tensing and thrusting his hips as he came, over and over, finishing onto Harry’s stomach.

They stilled while Draco recovered. Opening his eyes, he drank in the pleasured flush on Harry’s cheeks, and he started to move again for Harry’s pleasure. Face contorting in ecstasy, Harry sped up, forehead to forehead, Draco’s arms wrapped around him. He could tell Harry was near. Harry controlled the pace. His lips were kissed red. Draco’s hips hurt where Harry’s fingers gripped them. Shuddering, Harry pulsed, tensed, and came with a long groan.

He took a moment to observe Harry—sated, relaxed, lovely.

Then, Draco lifted himself off, but Harry pulled him sideways onto his lap so he could nuzzle into the crook of Draco’s shoulder.

Collecting a puddle of hot water into his palms, he rinsed his come off Harry’s stomach.

He summoned his wand, and murmured, “ _Reparo_ ,” to mend Harry’s glasses. Without disentangling himself from Harry, Draco slid them up his nose and tucked the arms behind his ears. Harry smiled up at him dreamily, and ran his fingers through Draco’s soaked hair.

His heart stuttered.

“We must go,” said Draco.

Potter cleared his throat and dropped his hand. “Yeah, we need to start work. This has been…” _Perfect. Wonderful_. “…a welcome distraction.”

He shut off the shower and summoned Potter’s towel.

“Oi. Save a dry corner for me.”

Draco towelled himself, cast a Drying Charm on the towel, and threw it to Potter.

He wanted to kiss him goodbye. “Don’t be late for work,” he said.

Potter gave him an inscrutable look and did not reply.


	7. Chapter 7

“With Ronald in St. Mungo’s, and Sally-Anne on annual leave next week, you two should obviously be partnered on Monday.” Robards looked over at Draco. “I trust the Healers patched you up all right?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve never been better.”

Their boss massaged his temples. “I know you’re not bosom buddies, but quite frankly you are professionals, and I expect you to behave as such.”

Harry swallowed. “That won’t be a problem, sir. We’ve been getting along better lately.”

Draco folded his arms and said nothing. Harry’s stomach lurched.

_Be cool._

Robards stood up and clapped them on the back. “Good. I know I can count on you both. Don’t let me down.”

****

That Monday, Harry froze dead in his tracks at the coffee kiosk. The _Daily Prophet_ headline leapt out at him:

_‘RUMOURS OF A GREENGRASS AND MALFOY ENGAGEMENT?’_

He stopped to buy a cappuccino and the paper.

“Mornin’, Harry,” said the barista. He smiled wanly back, hating that everyone recognised him.

It must be a slow day for this to make front page news. The smuggling arrests they’d made on Friday had only made the second page. He dazedly put down a handful of Sickles and wandered off, head in the paper.

His gut clenched at the photo of a woman coming out of a restaurant, holding hands with Draco. She smiled towards the camera, brown hair waving in the breeze, ring sparkling on her finger. Pretty. Impeccably dressed. A perfect mate for a Pureblood. Malfoy stared grimly at something off-camera.

He walked to the lifts in shock.

“Harry!” He wheeled around, scowling. His expression cleared as he saw Mr. Weasley jogging up to him. “Morning, Mr. Weasley.”

“Are you all right?” He looked at him concernedly.

Harry’s ears were buzzing. They were somehow in the lift. “Yeah, just a bit tired,” he said airily. The morning crowd squeezed them up against the grille. Harry leaned away from a man holding a squawking chicken with three heads.

The cool voice rang out—Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot Administration Services—and he and Mr. Weasley walked towards their respective offices.

He opened the door to the Auror Office with trepidation. Of course, Malfoy was the only one there.

“Potter, there you are—”

“Just going to the gym,” Harry declared, as he turned and fled.

_Get a grip._

****

“Potter, you should sit at Sally-Anne’s desk.”

“No, you should sit at Ron’s.”

“When hell freezes over. It looks as though a Bombarda has hit it.”

Harry couldn’t argue with that, especially since their boss had just strolled into the room. He grumpily packed up his things, and stomped over to Draco’s cubicle.

He was laying down his quill and pile of paperwork when Robards came over. “Urgent memo from the Minister. I need you in Dover, pronto. No time to brief you, the ferry could arrive any minute now—you know the drill. Be back in an hour if no joy. Bring your cloak,” he nodded to Harry.

They both sprung to their feet, and took the Floo to Kingsley’s office.

“Morning, men,” Kingsley said, not looking up from his files. “Hope it goes well.”

“Cheers,” said Harry.

“Thank you, Minister,” said Draco.

Harry flung the Invisibility Cloak over them both, and they took the Portkey from the shelf.

He felt the familiar jerk of a hook behind his navel. His feet lifted off the ground; Draco’s shoulder banged into his; the coffee churned in his stomach; they both sped in a howl of wind and swirling colour, and then—

His feet slammed into the ground, and he staggered into Draco. They had appeared at the usual spot on Waterloo Crescent. Draco righted him by gripping his arm, and he cast the Muggle-Repelling Charm.

Harry tried to breathe normally at the shock of being so physically close to Draco. It helped that he could hear the sound of an ice cream van jingle and the shrieks of seagulls overhead. The breeze smelt of fish and chips, and the salt of the sea.

He squinted at the horizon. “Doesn’t look like there’s a ferry any time soon.”

“I will be the judge of that. _You_ are blind as a bat.” Draco looked out, and he waited patiently for his assessment. “You may be correct.”

The cloak was far too small for them both. Pressed up against each other, they shuffled over to sit down on a covered Victorian wrought iron bench. It was fairly quiet, as it was eight in the morning and the tourists hadn’t yet come out in their droves.

_This could be a long hour._

They resolutely ignored each other.

“Are you going to ignore me all day?” Draco asked, folding his arms.

“What would you like to talk about?”

“I don’t know why you hate me so much. I’ve done nothing to deserve it,” sniffed Draco.

He gripped the seat and furrowed his brow. “I…I don’t hate you.”

_Far from it._

Draco snorted. “ _That’s_ reassuring.” He pulled his feet up onto the bench, and wrapped his arms around his legs. Twisting his head to face Harry, he closed his eyes.

The heat of his breath warmed Harry’s cheek. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The Invisibility Cloak trapped them both.

It had been one year, and still Draco haunted his dreams.

He took a minute to greedily take in Draco’s features. The way his knee squished his cheek. His blond eyelashes were long. There was a tiny mole to the left of his eyebrow.

He seemed defeated and small.

Determined to ignore him, Harry dragged his gaze away and dutifully looked out for the ferry.

A quarter of an hour later, the bench was digging into his back and Draco hadn’t moved an inch. He stretched his neck and tried not to jostle the cloak too much. “…Malfoy?”

“Mm?”

“What’s wrong?”

Draco slowly opened his eyes. “No prizes for a correct guess.” At his baffled look, Draco continued. “You.” He breathed in and out deeply, and stretched his back as he sat up. Draco ran his hands through his hair. “You’re the perpetual thorn in my side.” He gazed out to sea and his voice dropped to a whisper. “And you should stay away from me.”

Harry hung his head and privately agreed as he remembered Astoria. He checked the swirling stars that encircled the golden face of his watch. Fifteen minutes left and still no sign of the ship.

Goosebumps erupted all over his body as Draco gripped his thigh. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Shh, keep your voice down. Would you prefer me to stop?” Draco’s breath ghosted the shell of his ear.

He shook his head as he said, “yes.” He clutched Draco’s forearm as he recalled his scars. _I must not tell lies_. “No.”

The inside of his leg burned as Draco’s fingers quested up towards his crotch. He twisted round and spread his legs. “We shouldn’t,” he gasped.

_This is a bad idea._

“Perhaps not,” Draco agreed. “But I want to. And you want to.”

Draco’s lip looked sore where he had bitten it, and Harry leaned in to taste him.


	8. Chapter 8

He traced Potter’s lower lip with his tongue, who clambered on his lap and clung to him like a limpet. He made sure they were thoroughly wrapped in the cloak.

Kissing Harry. He could do this all day.

_Coffee. Pastry. Lemon._

He tugged Harry by the legs and buttocks to draw him deeper into the kiss. Harry broke away to nip at his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. His fumbling hands were at Draco’s hips, parting scarlet robes, gaining entry to his underwear. “We shouldn’t,” Harry repeated.

Draco tongued a drop of salty sweat running down his cheek. “Do it anyway, you fucking tease.” He undid Harry’s trousers. “I have to put up with you every day of the week, and this is my reward,” he growled.

 _Not_ every _day._

He fished his wand out from his robes, and cast a Cushioning Charm for Harry’s knees.

Harry paused, hesitant. “…May I—?” His hand hovered over Draco’s cock.

Draco frowned at the space between them, then caught and kissed Harry’s palm. Green eyes burned into his. “Do what you will.”

Nodding, he released Draco’s cock from his underwear and fisted it.

 _Too long_. _It had been too long._

Draco’s eyes crinkled, and he leaned up for another deep kiss. He lived for this. Harry’s wild hair was soft as he raked his fingers across his scalp. He reached between them and sought Harry’s thick cock. He feasted his eyes on Harry’s expression as he stroked him, face tense, lips parted, cheeks flushed.

Draco froze in wide-eyed shock as a dog dashed past. Harry snorted in shocked laughter.

“Shut up or I’ll silence you,” he hissed. The mirth dropped off his face as Draco pumped faster and harder. Harry stroked Draco in time.

His eyes widened as Harry stopped to retrieve a vial of lube from his inner pocket. He knocked Draco’s hand aside, and gathered them together in one slicked palm. As he stroked them both slowly, gently, Harry bit his lip. He reached up to brush strands of hair off Harry’s forehead, which was damp with sweat. A double-decker bus and motorbike whined past. Harry’s breathing grew harsher, and Draco gasped into his mouth.

He clutched Harry’s shoulders, thighs, then hips, and couldn’t decide whether to look up or down. His end approaching, he rested his head on Harry’s chest. A Muggle jogger sprinted by on the beach below. Harry gripped them harder. The sound of lube was obscene. Harry went faster.

“I’m…I’m—” Harry quietly gasped, shuddering as he came over his fist, coating Draco’s cock with his come. As this was the most erotic sight he had ever beheld, Draco followed quickly afterwards. He was powerless to move his hips against Harry’s weight as he finished in Harry’s hand. Harry kissed the corner of Draco’s lips whilst he caught his breath.

He peered around Harry. “Still no ferry.”

Potter laughed weakly, and cleaned them up with his wand and returned their appearance to normality. “Good.”

He couldn’t resist drawing Potter in for a kiss, who deepened it whilst stroking the nape of his neck.

“I always lose my head around you." Looking around, he saw that they were alone. "Come on, let’s go.” He pulled Potter up, who traced the veins over the back of Draco’s hand.

They were still holding hands when they returned to the Minister’s office, though quickly sprang apart. Kingsley acted as though he hadn’t seen.


	9. Chapter 9

“He watches you all the time, it’s like being in Sixth Year, honestly,” said Hermione one day at lunch.

“Keep your voice down,” he hissed. “And don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s true mate,” said Ron, chewing on his pasty. “You should say something.”

Harry cut up his fried egg. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Well, do you like him back?” asked Hermione.

Harry’s ears turned pink. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” At that moment, Percy was walking by. “Hey! I haven’t seen you in ages. How’s it going?”

He thunked his tray down at their table. “Extraordinarily busy, Harry, extraordinarily busy.” Percy nodded to Hermione and Ron. “Hello all. I can’t stay for long; I’m being depended upon to finish an urgent report for the Minister.”

“That’s a shame,” said Ron. Hermione elbowed him.

“Are you coming to lunch on Saturday?” she asked.

He zoned out for the rest of the conversation.

When he got up to his cubicle half an hour later, he covered a periwinkle with a stack of paperwork before Ron spotted it. The remainder of the afternoon passed uneventfully.

Magical Maintenance had arranged for a blizzard to storm the windows, and he traced idle patterns in the condensation whilst waiting for the lift.

Somehow, he ended up alone in it with Malfoy.

“Take me home with you.”

He wanted to be angry, but he was mesmerised. It was like looking into the sun. “You don’t just get to decide…you _ignore_ me…” He hated how he fumbled over his words around Draco. “What about Astoria?”

“What about ‘Ben’?” Draco spat.

“ _What?_ ”

The cool voice rang out, “Level Three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Obliviator Headquarters and Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.” The grilles clanged open, and three witches came in, who were all reading identical scrolls of parchment that trailed on the ground.

He was squeezed up against Draco, who folded his arms and stared resolutely ahead. Harry swallowed. “…The mission was a failure, the…briefing was inadequate.” Draco fixed his gaze down on him. “Expectations weren’t properly managed. Lessons were learned.”

“I see,” he said softly. “Will there be a full debrief?”

“Level Four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office and Pest Advisory Bureau.”

“Yes,” said Harry. The golden grilles slid open.

“Harry!” called a familiar voice.

He stood up on tiptoes to peer over the crowd. “Hullo, Bill.”

“See you at lunch on Saturday?” Spotting Malfoy, he waved at him and added, “you’re welcome to join us, too.”

Draco composed himself. “That is very gracious of you.”

“I’ll owl you both,” Bill called.

‘Both?’ Malfoy mouthed at him. He just shrugged his shoulders. “Many thanks,” Draco called out to Bill.

At the next level, yet more people crammed in. Somehow, he was leaning into Draco, who did not complain. Draco murmured into his ear, “my assignment was not unlike yours. You must apply lessons learned to this situation. That’s what good Aurors do—learn from their mistakes, and share the results moving forward.”

Harry swallowed. “Right.”

They were finally at the Atrium and piled out. “I trust you are coming to the MLE party on Friday. It’s Muggle-themed, so naturally I will need to come by and help you dress.”

“I was raised by Muggles!”

“Not very well.” He couldn’t argue with that. “I’ve taken the liberty of sending ahead for your measurements.”

He tugged Draco into an alcove. “You don’t own me. You don’t control me.”

“No,” whispered Draco. “Where would the fun be in that?” His gaze flickered down to his lips. “I’ll come by at seven.”


	10. Chapter 10

On Friday, he found a note on his desk when he came up from the gym.

_‘I have a surprise for you.’_

It was written in an elegant script, and there was a sketch of a daisy in lieu of a signature.

He had already owled his address to Draco last night. By six o’clock, he had changed into everything that he owned. He had showered three times longer than normal, and his flat was spotless. Draco knocked at his door right on time.

He was holding a bouquet of Thornless Roses, which he offered to Harry.

“Thank you,” he said. “These are beautiful, where did you get them?”

“From the Manor grounds, of course.”

“Please, come in.” He gestured Draco inside and went to the kitchen to put them in water. “Are they all from your gardens?” he called.

“Yes.”

He returned to the living room to see Draco unpacking a bag.

“Um...Draco?” He never called him that unless they were having sex. “About Ben.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s a Muggle, and it didn’t work out.”

“Pity,” he smirked.

“Are you really marrying Astoria?”

Draco snorted. “Don’t be absurd. She’s not you. Strip.” He placed some potions on the side. “No arguments, we have little time.”

He chuckled and stripped down to his underwear. Draco pressed on his shoulders to sit him on the sofa. He uncapped a vial of magenta liquid, and Harry eyed it warily. “What are you doing?”

“Fixing your hair.” Draco buried his fingers in his hair. “There was a very handy potion designed for people like you. Funnily enough, your grandparents invented it.” He showed him the label, ‘Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion’.

“…Oh. Wow.” Draco dressed him like a child, and buttoned, cufflinked, and zipped him up.

“Did you know we’re fifth cousins twice removed? I had to study my ancestry.”

“Really?” Harry laughed. “So, we’re family? You’ll have to tell me more.”

“I will.”

Harry summoned two Butterbeers before leaving to study his reflection in the mirror. He wore an open-necked crisp plum shirt, and fitted trousers. His hair was sleek and smooth. “I look like I’m going for a strange job interview.”

“No, you look sexy.” Draco uncorked the drink and crossed his legs. “And that is why you need my help.”

“What do you want?”

Draco snorted. “What sort of question is that?”

He sat next to him and fiddled with his shirt cuffs. “You know what I mean.”

“Look at me, Harry.” He swivelled to face Draco, who reached out to trace his lips. “I want to take care of an orphan. I’m a keen humanitarian.”

Harry smiled and closed his eyes. It was suddenly very warm in the room. “How noble of you.” He kept them shut as hands caressed his face, drawing him in, for lips to brush against his too tenderly to pretend it was simply craving that drove them. Responding in the same careful manner, his lips communicated what his voice would not. Draco’s hand tangled in his hair, and Harry stroked his back, Butterbeer spilling onto the carpet.

Harry drew back. “Why have you never taken me back to yours?”

Draco raised his eyebrows and fiddled with Harry’s earlobe. “It is rather intense, visiting the Manor. You’d be meeting at least a hundred relatives, considering the number of portraits.” A wrinkle appeared between his brows. “I’m aware it will not hold…happy memories for you.”

“Oh.” He nodded at his feet.

Draco put his Butterbeer down on the coffee table. “Look. We barely know each other—”

“—I know how you taste. I know that you’re brave—”

“—Potter, shut up and let me finish.” Harry’s lips pressed together in a tight line, and Draco paused. “Harry.” His grey eyes squeezed shut. “I would like to know you better…if that is agreeable with you. If you would like to know me better, that is—”

He put a forefinger on Draco’s lips to shut him up. “Open your eyes.” Draco obeyed. “Yes. Yes, I would.”

Draco’s shoulders relaxed, and he quenched a smile. He held Harry’s wrist, keeping it close to his mouth, and twisted it so he could brush his lips to the back of his hand. Taking out his wand and setting it on the table, Draco bowed his head.

Vulnerable. Unarmed. Eyes low.

“Do what you will.”

“Come to dinner with me,” Harry demanded. “Hogsmeade. Let’s show our faces at the party and we can leave early. I’ll Apparate us to the village square and walk you to that new restaurant. I didn’t want to go tonight, anyway.”

“We are of one mind, it would seem. It would be my pleasure.”

“No.” He threaded their fingers. “It would be mine.”

Draco cleared his throat. “Speaking of pleasure…I would not be averse to being fashionably late.”

Closing the Floo, he caught sight of Draco’s grin. “Come here.”

Draco obeyed. He palmed Draco’s erection through his trousers and kissed him under his ear.

“This shan’t take long,” Draco said. “I’ve been fantasising about you all day.” His eyes blazed. “You haven’t asked me about your surprise.”

He yanked Draco’s trousers down to his thighs. His cock sprang out and rested against his flat stomach. “No underwear…”

Draco smirked at him. “You’re welcome.”

****

Harry got to his knees. “My second present. Thank you.” Pre-come leaked out of the tip, warm and sticky. He dragged his hands over every coarse blond hair on his thighs.

Before he could tell Harry how gorgeous he looked, he shot a wicked grin, and dove onto his cock.

Any lingering thoughts evaporated like rain in a desert the moment Harry enveloped his entire cock in his hot mouth, his tongue caressing the underside of his shaft.

He gasped as Harry’s nose brushed against his pubes, his knees buckled, and he sank down onto the carpet.

As quickly as it began, Harry stopped. He looked at his achievement in satisfaction. With a thud, his new belt and trousers dropped to the floor. He fumbled with his cufflinks, before holding them out to Draco.

Draco shook his head slowly and helped him out of his shirt.

“Please, Malfoy. It’s my dream to join the Slytherin team this year. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to persuade you?”


	11. Chapter 11

_Circe’s tits. Roleplay._

Harry pulled down his underwear, freeing his hard cock. He shifted around slowly, and Draco gulped at the sight before him. His arse was perfect, and he was wearing a _butt plug_.

He cleared his throat and sat up. “Well…I’m afraid you didn’t do very well on tryouts. However, I can think of other ways to satisfy the…requirements of being on my team.” He caressed Harry’s back and arse with his palms, and spread his thighs apart.

“Please, Captain,” Harry whined. “I’ll do anything.”

“Merlin, Harry.” He sounded strangled. He gently took out the plug. “I’ll be in Mungo’s before the day is up if you carry on like this.”

Harry got onto his hands and knees.

 _Salazar save me_.

He closed the distance between them, and glided his cock along Harry’s crack, who whimpered and pushed back. His hole was already slick. “Please.”

It would be a crime not to.

_Salazar save us all._

He pushed forward and tenderly entered him. He tried not to come immediately from the heat and tightness. He saw where their bodies joined and Harry welcomed him inch by inch, groaning and pushing backwards, rocking gently.

Gripping his hips, he stilled them before the warmth and vice-like pressure overwhelmed him. Too much. Too soon.

Bending double, he licked a bead of sweat off Harry’s spine. “You definitely want to join my team?” he growled.

Harry twisted his head round, and nodded, pupils blown. “So badly.”

“You will have to work _very_ hard.” Harry ground backwards, and then his head and chest slumped to the ground when Draco reached round to stroke him.

He stopped to grip his thighs, then his hips, and pulled back and slammed into him.

_Mine._

Harry’s breath was ragged. Again, he rocked into him. His fingernails raked through the carpet.

Mindless, he increased their pace. Harry twisted his head to the side, slack-jawed, and yelped in bliss as he hit the right spot every time. Draco’s knees stung with the friction at the steady rhythm.

He paused, fully seated, and summoned his wand. Stroking Harry’s back, he tried to gather some semblance of rational thought. He focussed on a complicated charm to give the wall a mirrored surface. Harry gazed and moaned at the sight of them both, pumped his cock, and whined louder. It was a glorious sight. The muscles of his back rippled and strained, and Draco knew he was close. Harry froze in pleasure when he came, squeezing his eyes shut—unable to look at them both, shuddering and murmuring expletives.

The familiar white-hot fire grew and grew at this vision of ecstasy. When Harry turned his head to watch, it tipped him over the edge. His eyesight blurred. Harry clamped down around him and bucked backwards, eagerly meeting every thrust. As he came, moaning and pumping his come into Harry, who was watching and smiling.

They stilled. Harry carefully pulled off, and they both laid down facing each other. Draco’s brain slowly returned to functionality whilst featherlight kisses rained all over his face. “You are going to be my ruination.”

“I want to hold your hand tonight,” said Harry.

“If you must. I am powerless to deny you anything.” Draco caressed the back of Harry’s hand with his lips. “You will have to tell me about this scar.”

“Over dinner,” said Harry. He vanished the mess from the carpet, but Draco laid a hand on his arm to stop him cleaning himself. “You may wash the Muggle way. I prefer to know that my come is inside you, tonight.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you.”

He pulled Harry in for a kiss. “Good.”

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> All comments/support welcome!


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